Encounter at the Border
The carriage raced smoothly and swiftly northward.
During the journey, Woo-gang took his medicine at regular intervals.
The apothecary owner had said the effects would last about four hours.
So Woo-gang dosed himself every four hours.
Thanks to that, he kept the heat from spreading through his entire body.
Once he adapted to his condition, after some time on the road, he could move a bit more actively.
It was like recovering from a severe fever, bit by bit.
Of course, as the carriage headed north, the temperature dropped—that helped too.
It wasn't a huge difference, but that small change felt like rain in a drought to Woo-gang.
Seeing Woo-gang's condition stabilize and improve steadily eased Si-woo's mind a little, allowing him to focus on the trip.
The carriage pressed on until they neared the border.
Si-woo and Woo-gang had planned to travel by carriage only up to the border.
Beyond lay a vast desert to cross before reaching the North Sea—a grueling stretch that could strain Woo-gang. Besides, no carriage could navigate the sands anyway.
Upon arriving at the border, the pair disembarked and headed to a nearby inn.
The sun was setting, and with rough roads ahead, a good rest made sense.
But the border felt chaotic.
Soldiers were everywhere, as expected at a checkpoint, but their tension was off the charts.
Is war brewing?
Si-woo swallowed the thought and supported Woo-gang as they entered the inn.
"Welcome! Staying the night?"
"Yes. One room, please."
"Right this way!"
The brisk server led them to a clean room plenty big for two.
"Anything else you need?"
"We're good for now. Oh, but the commotion outside—what's going on?"
"Ah, that?"
Si-woo eyed the server curiously.
"Word is, a vicious criminal slipped across the border at dawn."
"Vicious criminal?"
Si-woo frowned.
"Yeah. Sun's already setting—if he crossed at dawn, he's long gone by now. No idea why they're making such a fuss. It's bad for business."
The server had a point.
Anyone crossing at dawn would be far away by now.
Evading the border guards meant no ordinary thug—this one might have already plunged deep into the Central Plains.
Probably a martial artist.
"Thanks anyway. We'll come down for dinner."
"Got it! Rest well!"
The server pocketed the coin Si-woo slipped him, bowed smartly, and vanished.
"Let's rest here a couple days. How's your body holding up?"
"Better, Grandfather. The heat still flares up now and then, but I can handle it."
"Good."
"Grandfather."
"Hm?"
"What's the North Sea like?"
Woo-gang's curiosity about their destination finally bubbled up.
"The North Sea... brutally cold. Blanketed in snow, with winds that cut like knives. In bad storms, the gales whip up the drifts—you can't see a foot ahead."
"So I'll train there, in that frozen hell?"
"Yes. There's a murim faction called the Bing Palace in the North Sea. Our sect has an old pact with them. You'll train there."
"And that's the end?"
"Once you learn the Hong Yeom Cheon Ui Chang and reach the Geomhwa stage, your training's complete."
Woo-gang tilted his head at Si-woo's words.
"That's it?"
"I know—it seems odd. Why stop at Geomhwa when there's the Yongcheon stage?"
Si-woo nodded knowingly and continued.
"No one's ever reached Yongcheon. Not even our founder, who created the art. It exists in theory, but it's unattainable. So reaching Geomhwa means you've mastered the Hyeoncheon Yeolhwa Singong."
"Ah..."
Woo-gang nodded in understanding.
"At Geomhwa, the heat tormenting you now will fade. More precisely, you'll control it yourself."
"Thank goodness. I can't wait to get there. Even if more grueling training awaits..."
No matter how tough it got, nothing could top his current agony.
"You've got a lot to learn, and I've got plenty to teach. We've got time—I'll tell you slowly."
"Yes."
Si-woo smiled faintly at Woo-gang's reply.
"Rest up. I'll step out and check the mood around here."
With that, Si-woo left the inn.
Si-woo didn't just wander—he headed straight somewhere with purpose.
Soon, he stopped before an elegant building bearing a plaque: Murim Alliance.
This was the border branch.
"How may I help?"
A guard blocked his path.
"Tell them inside—the Flame King has arrived."
The guard jolted at the title.
"My apologies! This way."
"No need to apologize. Just procedure."
Si-woo brushed it off and entered.
His sudden visit threw the branch into chaos.
A living legend dropping in unannounced in this backwater? Unheard of.
The branch leader, stunned by the news, stubbed his toe on a bookshelf in his panic.
After the commotion, he sat across from Si-woo, pouring tea without meeting his eyes.
"Flame King, to this humble outpost..."
"If a Murim Alliance branch is humble, what's left that's not?"
"Haha, true enough."
The branch leader chuckled awkwardly at Si-woo's smirk.
"Things feel tense out there. Heard a criminal crossed the border?"
"That's the rumor, but he seems like a martial artist."
"Figures. Dodging guards and us? No ordinary crook. Any leads on his affiliation?"
"Looks tied to the Bing Palace."
He handed Si-woo a letter—not shown to the soldiers.
"Bing Palace..."
Si-woo scowled.
"Yes. Escaped their watch, so he's no slouch."
"Then he should've cleared the area by now."
"No traces beyond the border. We're tightening patrols with the army."
"Still here?"
"That's our guess."
"Hm..."
Si-woo pursed his lips thoughtfully.
The branch leader glanced hopefully—maybe the Flame King would help?
"Border checks must be ramped up."
"Yes."
Si-woo, frowning slightly, spoke again.
"One favor, branch leader."
"Of course."
"I need to cross—with a companion."
"Ah, I see."
Disappointment tinged his voice—no help after all.
"Could you make us identity tokens?"
"Easy. I'll prepare them."
"Leaving the day after tomorrow. Possible by then?"
"No problem."
"Appreciated."
"It's nothing. I'll deliver them. Where are you staying? Or stay here—the inn's no match."
"No. My companion's not one for crowds. I'll come get them in two days."
"Understood. They'll be ready."
"Then I'm off."
Si-woo rose, and the leader saw him to the gate.
Heading back, Si-woo's mind churned.
A Bing Palace fugitive... who breaks through their defenses to flee here?
Their own destination was Bing Palace. It nagged at him.
He considered hunting the guy down but dismissed it—Woo-gang came first.
"Murim Alliance and Bing Palace will handle it."
Si-woo shoved the thought aside and returned to the inn.
Two days flew by.
The pair spent them quietly, no incidents.
Woo-gang held steady; the border didn't erupt into worse chaos.
Si-woo fetched the tokens from the branch that morning, packed lightly, and prepared to depart.
As they left the inn, a crowd murmured ahead.
Curious, they approached: a group in thick garb had just crossed, about twenty strong.
Si-woo's gaze sharpened on them.
One met his eyes, whispered to his comrades, and they surged toward him.
All eyes turned.
Si-woo scowled at the abruptness. They halted and bowed as one.
"We see the Flame King."
The title sparked louder buzz— even non-martial folk knew the name.
Woo-gang glanced at Si-woo sidelong.
Even after all this time, hearing "Flame King" was new—and seeing so many bow? Stunning.
The man he'd seen as just "Grandfather" felt distant now.
"Bing Palace mobilized for this?"
"Yes."
"We were headed there anyway. I'd help, but my companion... you understand."
"Bing Palace business. No need."
The speaker eyed Woo-gang appraisingly—they'd know who he was.
"Eyes off."
The man dropped his gaze and bowed at the Flame King's command.
"You know who this boy is."
"Forgive me."
"You'll learn the details at the palace. Don't be reckless and court disaster. I'm not that merciful."
"Forgive me."
Only then did Si-woo relent.
"Handle your business. We're off."
"See you at the palace."
Si-woo nodded once, took Woo-gang's arm, and crossed the border.
The Bing Palace group bowed until they vanished.
